An Open Letter to My Nipples

in #philosophy7 years ago

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credit: lunalunamagazine
I

FIXATION

Nipples, I reflect onconsideration on you constantly.

II

THE allow DOWN

allow down n. the discharge of milk in a nursing mom or lactating animal

I had another top surgical treatment dream final night.

on this imaginative and prescient, a set of friends and that i had all traveled en masse to a much-off, tropical locale—now not the usual Florida; maybe New Orleans?—to help a chum’s pinnacle surgery. It turned into humid; frangipani air hung on the frame. It felt magical.

The pal changed into laid out on a white sheet, subconscious in a way that seemed more like they had been having a totally sweet dream. We were all sitting in a circle in the open air round this friend whilst the health care provider performed the deed. We were maintaining sacred space; chanting; praying; smiling; singing.

The surgeon, who was genderless, additionally felt like a religious practitioner, as surgeons occasionally do. The manner that they done the top surgical treatment turned into so mild and noninvasive that the scars were slightly seen in a while, and the nipples, keeping their sensitivity, didn’t must be moved.

everybody spent time afterwards, and there was food and costumes and dancing; it felt like a Mardi Gras, possibly like the gay and Lesbian Mardi Gras of my Australian youth.

It changed into nightfall. people were under the influence of alcohol. There were fireflies.

I noticed my former roommate there.

“I had any other pinnacle surgical treatment dream closing night,” I admitted.

He smiled at me.

that is a totally sweet pinnacle surgery dream, I think. normally, when i have top surgical procedure goals i'm seeking to breastfeed, however all i've are drainage pumps complete of milk.

I honestly, actually need to breastfeed.

now and again, while my companion sucks on you the way he does—terrifi, sensuous, feminist—I experience like I want him to hold doing it till milk, laced with oxytocin, springs from you into his mouth. Then he and i could be bonded: like mother and infant, like family, like fanatics. This is not shameful to me. i'm kinky and i've many kinks. but I’ve idea approximately it plenty, Nipples, and wanting to nurse isn't always my kink. If something, it is my recuperation.

let down n. A decrease in length, volume, or pressure

My first boyfriend and that i, and also you, were 16 when we started relationship. He turned into my first kiss. None folks had made it past first base earlier than. You and i hadn’t even made it to a base earlier than.

He became enthusiastic about sucking on you; keep in mind? He commenced doing it a month when we began courting—with out asking. we would make out, after which he would nearly at once raise up my blouse and begin sucking, like I had been a soda gadget at an all-you-can-eat buffet. I felt unwell, lifeless.

This wasn’t intended to be your advent to delight, Nipples.

once I don't forget him doing it in public, at night, taking walks down a suburban avenue to his house. We had been making out, guffawing, frolicking. Then he stopped me, lifted up my shift and bra, and, to quote Bikini Kill, sucked my left one. Do you remember that?

Do you don't forget the matters that manifest to you?

My left breast became, and nonetheless is, smaller than the proper one. I consider whilst, noticing this even as sucking away at you, he appeared up and said to me, “This one simply needs a little more encouragement” and sucked on that one for longer.

I withered interior and stayed small, Nipples.

I don't forget when we have been 17 and away at a junior countrywide fencing opposition, reuniting and reveling with teen fencers from across the usa. i used to be hooking up with a hot woman pal in the front of my ex and his friend. It become for us, no longer them. They were just there. My ex toasted over us—as in pretended to have a pitcher of alcohol, or possibly did have a pitcher of alcohol, and made a toasting gesture, verbally admiring the view along with his friend. something alongside the strains of “We’ve got booze, we’ve were given a view…”

I blocked them out of my hazy, drunken thoughts. i was busy. My warm buddy changed into giving me head. It became none in their enterprise.

My ex’s buddy moved over to me and saw that you had been uncovered, erect.

He sucked on you. He did now not ask me.
day after today, I informed a few buddies. They laughed at me.

permit down n. A sadness or a sense of disappointment

there has been a girl i was in love with in my high college pal circle. We established multiple times back then. We haven’t spoken in years, now not when you consider that she moved to the east coast of Australia, leaving her records with each person in the back of.

In her later teenagers she behaviorally fled her Christian fundamentalist upbringing and familial support machine, spiraling out into capsules and dangerous promiscuity. She lied a lot. She clung to her palms in her sleep till she bruised. She fucked my boyfriend/ex-boyfriend. She hooked up with my crush in his bed while i used to be within the next room, unaware and nonetheless hopeful. once I moved to the States for college she moved in with my ex, or so I heard years later, and they advised everyone that they had been in love. and then she moved to the alternative aspect of the u . s . a . to rejoin her family and religion, getting married to a guy who sexually assaulted her.

they've a child now. Are they happy?

I cherished sucking this female’s nipples.

One time, she stood over me and lifted up her white singlet halfway, exposing the bottoms of her breasts. She posed for me, tugging on her cap and miniskirt, thrusting out her hip: a slutty cheerleader. I lifted up her shirt and starting sucking. I didn’t ask her.

once more, at a own family-and-friends-type party at her parents’ residence, she had a panic assault. I observed her upstairs to comfort her. She instructed me that her father, who continually unsettled me, had been sexually assaulting her. I had many questions I didn’t ask.

This scared me out of my queerness for almost a decade.

I still have a awesome sexual urge for food for human beings with breasts, even though I rarely act on it now. I theorize that i am nonetheless too wounded from what went on earlier than. That’s part of it, I’m certain. mainly, although, I’m afraid to violate the breast-havers with my goals.

I play it in my head, over and over: I see my lover’s breasts and snatch them with my taking-arms, letting all of the poisonous masculinity deposited onto—into—me by using so many our bodies ooze out immediately. My lover withers, as I did, becoming distorted and fixated too.

maybe i used to be usually destined to be a breast- and nipple-lover.
I drank so much breast milk from my mother that she had to tug me off her, lest I sucked her dry.

One time, whilst i was less than years vintage, we were within the tub together with her. You were tiny lower back then. I twisted my mom’s large nipples and cried out: “pretty buttons!”

My first weigh down become Jessica Rabbit. i would stare at her breasts and get warm between my legs. i used to be three. I rewatched Who Framed Roger Rabbit? until I wore out the VHS.

As quickly as I learned to attract, i might draw Disney-princess-kind ladies in princess-reduce clothes with Jessica Rabbit proportions: great breasts, tapered waists, blue eyes, blonde hair, big lips, lengthy lashes. i was an overweight “wog” female—frizzy brown hair, massive nostril, double chin—and half a boy internal.

I desired to be Princess Jasmine. I wanted to fuck Princess Jasmine. I wanted Aladdin to fuck me. I wanted to be Aladdin.

whilst i was seven, my buddy came over and taught me a way to make my Barbies make out with every other, topless, undressing every different with their plastic knife-hands—garments getting caught on proper-angle hands—and fondling every different’s nippleless breasts.

Later in the scene, I made a Ken doll assault a Barbie, and then I made Barbie take Ken to courtroom for sexual harassment. I made my pal do Barbie’s voice in the court docket. I fed her the traces. My buddy didn’t need to. She become seven too.

when i used to be ten I saw a dance overall performance with my own family: a darkish-haired man and a blonde, statuesque girl had been doing the tango. The female gave the impression of Barbie. the man dipped the lady and lifted her again up; she kissed him passionately, grabbing his face with each fingers. I desired the lady to kiss me. I wanted to be the man.

III

MAGIC

recently, a brand new lover fucked me without asking me. We were in bed together. things escalated. I couldn’t locate my “No.” I cried day after today. He listened.

earlier than the fucking, this man or woman told me that my breasts were “magic,” due to the fact he sucked on you, Nipples, and i had an orgasm.

I’m nevertheless amazed by way of your superpower. You provide me orgasms. Nipplegasms.

And what? My breasts are magic. Pendulous, smooth, and creased with colorless stretch marks, with big alveoli and a hair or round the edge. They grasp heavy, and taper superbly into the gentle points of you. they may be terrifi. you're suitable, and you're pretty responsive. You supply me orgasms. you are magic.

IV

desire

This become what I masturbated to as a horny 16-12 months-old with a nipple fixation:

fantasy #1: entering my hot 34-yr-antique high school teacher’s workplace and begging for an A. beginning my uniform (a colonial-sublime navy Aboriginal-print get dressed with a tie) to reveal my pert teenage breasts. We make out. I placed his hand on my right breast and he fondles me. I guide his head closer to you, Nipples, and he sucks on you. Then the fundamental is ready to return into his office. I conceal under his desk, which has a gap for legs but is opaque in any other case. He sits at his table, hiding me from the open side, and bids the primary input. I unzip his fly and suck his dick to climax even as he speaks with the most important, barely stifling his pleasure. I greedily suck his semen down.

Semen is a chunk like breast milk, don’t you watched?

fantasy #2: i'm a journalist covering an event on the Playboy mansion. i have on a black pencil skirt with matching garter stockings and pointy black pumps. My white sheer blouse well-knownshows a attractive black bra, with matching high-reduce, black lacy undies.

The Playboy bunnies are wearing clothes that seem like black bathing suits with holes to permit their gravity-defying breasts poke via. The holes and edges of the suits are laced with white doily cloth. They appear like French maid bunnies.

one of the bunnies is assigned to me as a excursion guide. She is horny, and seems like a cast member of Baywatch. I take a tour of the mansion and grounds. subsequently, i'm led through a chain of underwater grottos. We bypass any other Playboy bunny straddling a man, squatting on his dick and riding him wildly and he lay flat on his back, receiving, helpless to her desire. they are both absolutely clothed besides for his dick and her breasts and cunt. The bunny suit has some other hole, it appears. They moan and scream with nasty, opulent pride, fucking away in that damp, gray grotto on the cold, stone floor, splayed out next to a shimmering swimming pool bathed in mild from a skylight overhead. My bunny leads me nonchalantly beyond them, taking pictures me a coy glance as I stare. inside the next grotto, a tall waterfall tumbles lustily into a lagoon. My bunny asks me if I’ve seen sufficient, if there’s some thing greater that I’ll be trying from her. Am I inquisitive about what I saw? Curious? She takes me at the back of the waterfall in order that nobody can see. She is soaking moist. She places my face onto her breast to suck. I suck her nipples. Then she sucks mine: you.

i'm masturbating and touching, pinching, twisting you as I write this.

V

elimination
My obsession with breast elimination, breast sucking, and breastfeeding are all parallel, as in they do no longer contact.

I don't forget a 6th-grade classmate giving a speech approximately Amazon girls and the way they reduce off their left breasts. i was 11. I back to this photograph for a long term. I later discovered that it was to higher shoot with a bow and arrow. What about the lefties?

One time in 8th grade: i used to be rifling via a glossy mag, and that i saw a narrow, modelesque female with buzzed blonde hair and almost no make-up, wearing a singlet that actually showed a flat chest. The caption read that she didn’t need her breasts anymore, so she eliminated them. i ponder where this character is now. who's she? Is she trans? was this newsletter woefully gender incompetent, or did she still use she/her pronouns on the time of her surgery? Why did I fixate in this photograph for see you later?

For years after my studies with my first boyfriend, I noticed and felt darkish electricity in my right breast, the bigger one. the only that needed less “encouragement.”

My first electricity healer told me that I had to kind out my courting with my breasts. She saw the dark strength too. She saw that I occasionally desired them long past.

My transmasc buddies inform me that you may lose sensation in one’s nipples after pinnacle surgical operation. This prospect horrifies me.

once, while i was 20, I cried about no longer being a person. i used to be inside the palms of my homosexual male buddy, in university, in bed. It turned into overdue. He kissed me. I cried some more. Then I were given up and placed on mascara. Or changed into the mascara once more?

considered one of my best sexual appetites is for queer men who fuck different queer guys. They don’t see the queer guy
I met a stunning 53-12 months-vintage transman remaining 12 months. He became a thorough faerie, and had transitioned seven years in the past. He had constantly been butch, and was usually attracted to queer and homosexual men. He had intercourse with men earlier than his transition but “it never felt right.” Now it feels right. He informed me that he underwent the bodily transformation in order that humans might see him for who he was, so that he could have intercourse with the humans to whom he turned into attracted. It wasn’t as an awful lot for himself, I don’t assume.

I highly identify with this tale.

perhaps whilst i'm center-elderly, and completed breastfeeding, i can transform into a queer guy and feature intercourse with the faeries for the rest of my existence.

VI

HYBRID

i've labored with the identical power healer for the beyond 5 years now. Her call is Eva. Many miracles, too many to call here, have passed off because of my paintings together with her. One stands out: The dark strength is long past from my breasts now. i am very kind to them. i'm nonetheless burdened by them, every now and then, by using their existence on my chest, however I receive their presence in my life as long as they're there. you'll continually be there, Nipples.

Eva helped me get better my gender too. i'm a hybrid.

Like the auto; like a mule; like an orchid.

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